My hands were tied behind my back once more, but I stood, shifting weight to keep myself off either leg for too long. Henri stood next to me, his hand gripping my right arm, his other typing away on his phone. Mathias had gone off somewhere the minute we stepped into the warehouse. Eventually Henri put his phone in his pocket, his jean jacket slipping down his bare shoulder. I still couldn’t fathom how he wasn’t cold with so little on.

He put a finger to his ear. “«Wait for my signal, »” he said quietly. “«No, no, no. This is insurance. I don’t want you to shoot but—No, hurt him but…Yes. »” He dropped his finger, went right back to typing away at his phone. He let out a childish groan at whatever was on his phone or his ear, letting out a string of Russian. “«Shut up, »” he eventually said, putting his finger back to his ear.

Henri kept his attention on his phone, his hand on my arm. His grip was just tight enough he’d know if I tried to slink away from him. I’d fall flat on my face before that happened, though. Standing for so long had my legs aching and me fighting to keep myself from falling. I wanted everything to hurry up, to get whatever this little thing we were doing in Boston done with. Alternatively, I wanted Mathias to shoot me from wherever he had gone off to. End my nightmare by putting a bullet right through my head. There was nothing left for me to live for. My father would come out of the woodwork at the prospect of me harming whatever little plan he had concocted all those years ago. It would be his problem to protect my sisters, now.

And it was the bickering I heard coming from outside the door that almost sent me to my knees. It should’ve been my father or one of his associates come to collect me, so why did they come? Why was I watching Anne and Margot walk through the old door fighting over nonsense as they’d always done?

Finally, Henri looked up from his phone, the piercing on his tongue clinking against his teeth as he said, “«You’re not Jean-Claude. Where is he? »”

They quit their pointless quarrel at Henri’s words, stopping in front of us. Anne kept her thumbs hooked into the front pockets of her jeans, black hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. Margot clutched at her phone in worry, standing even taller in her heeled boots over Anne and Henri. “Yves,” Anne said in her accented English after looking between me and Henri. “What the fuck?” Margot nodded in agreement.

Henri repeated his question and Margot glared daggers at him, holding up a manicured finger. “«Hold on, you little bitch. »” She typed something on her phone.

Margot held her phone flat in her palm and all of a sudden I heard my father’s voice come out of it. “«Henri, »” his voice filled the room. “«Why do you have my son? »”

“«This wasn’t the deal, »” he barked back. “«I said you come in person to collect Yves. Don’t send your daughters like a pussy. I thought you were a war hero. Where’s that fighting spirit gone?”

“«In the snow at Kheta when you stabbed me in the back. »” My father answered.

Henri let out a laugh, tightened his grip on my arm. “«You deserved it. »” He calmed himself down. “«Where are you? I know you wouldn’t send others in your stead and not watch from somewhere. »” The line went silent. Margot tapped the screen to make sure the call was still connected. When it was clear my father wasn’t going to answer, Henri filled the silence while I focused on staying on my feet through the pain. “«Fine. If you’re not going to hold up your end of the deal, then I guess it’s only fair I let you in on a little secret. »” He let a smile grow on his face, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. “«I have the best sharpshooter in the French undergrown in my employ. »”

“«Liar, »” he finally let out. “«Matias wouldn’t work for the Russians. »”

“«I have something he wants, »” Henri sang. “«He’s waiting for me to tell him he can kill your daughters. I wouldn’t make him wait too long, you know how trigger happy he can get. »” He leaned in close to the phone’s speaker and growled, “«Come here in the next twenty minutes and maybe I’ll be able to keep him from shooting. »” He ended the call before my father could answer him.

Margot slid her phone into her jacket pocket after having wiped the screen off on her pants. Anne kept her focus on me, like if she stopped looking at me I would disappear again. She had something she wanted to say, I could tell, but she held herself back. My endless shifting had the pain start to catch up with me and the desire to sit down started to win out. I looked down at the floor, dirtied from years of use and disuse. Pockets of water that had leaked through the old roof from the storms that plagued Boston in the winter. I resigned myself to sitting on the floor and started to lower myself to give my legs a break from the pain, only for Henri to pull me back up.

Our tense silence ensued, my sisters not wanting to get more involved than they already were. Henri bit at the skin on his thumb. I couldn’t form any words even if I wanted to.

This was it, I realized. Once my father came out of his last-ditch effort of a hiding place, I would be free. Mathias would have to go through my father if he wanted to keep me. I’d never have to see Henri again, never have to see Mathias again. My body felt lighter at this thought. I could see my sisters, my mother, whenever I wanted again. I didn’t have to stay in hiding, anymore. I didn’t want to stay hidden anymore. I wanted to laugh. I could be my stupid, useless, self again. If only my father could hurry up and walk through that door and give Henri whatever it was he wanted.

Henri stopped picking at his thumb to check the time on his phone. He said, finger to his ear, that if my father didn’t show in the next three minutes for Mathias to shoot Margot. Margot grabbed onto Anne in fear. I started counting seconds in my head. One hundred and nine seconds later, the door flung open, creaked closed. My sisters turned their heads to watch my father enter with the speed of a man who had things to do, and they had to be done now. Without missing a beat, he walked past Anne and Margot and hit Henri’s cheek so hard he stumbled to the side, removing his grip on my arm. I watched him spit blood onto the concrete. And he started laughing, loud and crazy.

Anne hurried over to me to bring me away from them as they fought. She held onto me, trying to keep me up as my legs finally gave out from under me. And I watched my father beat on Henri with my legs out in a v. Margot covered her mouth at the sounds of flesh hitting flesh. Anne got to work at undoing my restraints. I couldn’t look away. All I could think about was how good it’d feel if that was me getting a few licks in on Mathias.

 “«I should’ve killed you in Kheta! »” My father screamed as he pinned Henri on the ground under him, head hitting the floor hard. He wrapped his hands around Henri’s throat, squeezing as he thrashed under him.

Henri tried to get out from under my father, tried to roll and twist to switch positions with my father. But my father was bigger than him if he wasn’t stronger. He started scratching at my father’s face, yet it did nothing to let up his grip on him. He choked out something. Margot screamed as the muffled sound of a gun went off. I flinched, bit back tears as I remembered how Mathias had shot me without a second thought. Anne squatted down and held my head against her chest, her other hand holding Margot’s. There was no blood I could see, no injury of any sorts from a gun on Henri or my father. Henri had twisted his upper body away from his attacker as he wheezed and coughed, rubbing at his throat. My father, however, had his hands in the air.

Henri crawled away from my father, hacked up something awful on his hands and knees. “«Where’s…Where’s Onufrin? »” He rasped. He laid down on his side, holding up a finger as he took in gasps. “«What’s…oh my God…»” He got back up on his hands and knees spitting up more blood. Then there was a soft clink as something hit the concrete. He brought a hand to his mouth, put his fingers in. He grabbed whatever had fallen out of his mouth, sitting up on his knees. “«Whe’e i’ he? »” He asked again, speaking through the blood falling out of his mouth.

“«Onufrin is dead, »” he answered.

“«Liar! »” Henri screamed. He let out a noise of pain, putting a hand over his mouth. He got to his feet. “«He ca’d be dead. »” He said behind his hand.

“«Why do you think I was in Kheta? »”

“«Wha’d you do wi’h his body? »” He walked closer to where my father sat on his knees. “«I’m ‘od goi’g back ‘o Vasi’iy wi’ou’ his body. »”

My father sighed. “«You’re with Vasiliy? What happened? »”

“«You did. I’ Mo’cow. »”

“«I threw him in the river. »”

Henri let out another laugh, bending over to let the blood fall out of his mouth. He wiped as much of it as he could away from his mouth. Blood splattered onto my father’s face when he grabbed him by the collar. “«Whe’e i’ he?! »” He screamed again. “«O’e mo’e cha’ce o’ ‘ay goodbye ‘o Ma’go’. »” My father never got the chance to answer when a new pair of footsteps joined our little group. I felt sick listening to them, and I leaned closer into Anne’s motherly embrace. From the darkness, Mathias emerged, a case in one hand, and a pistol outstretched and pointed at Henri in the other. “«Wha’ a’e you doi’g? »”

He flipped the safety switch. “«My orders have changed. »” He said simply, cocking the pistol.

“«Wha’ o’rde’? »” Henri asked, stepping away from my father slowly.

“«Monsieur Luis is pissed to be taking orders from you Russians. But money is money. »” He let go of the case, moved his left hand to grip the bottom of his right. “«Vasiliy doesn’t need you anymore. »”

The thing clinked to the floor once more, falling out of Henri’s hand. He dug around his pockets frantically. He pulled out his phone, and it fell out of his shaking hands. I could hear how heavy he was breathing as he crouched to pick it up, as he typed on his phone then held it up to his ear. Fear registered on his face. He tried whatever it was again and again, only to come up short. Mathias took a step closer, and he took a step back.

“«I’d cover your ears, ladies. »” Mathias threw a quick glance over to where we huddled. Anne and Margot wasted no time brining their hands over their ears. I brought mine, trembling, to my own ears; I fought to keep my eyes open. Henri started pleading with Mathias. That this couldn’t be happening, that he was still useful. If he could just talk to Vasiliy. And at each of his pleading, Mathias took a step forward while Henri took a step back.

Henri’s hands hit the wall.

I felt Anne flinch, heard Margot let out another scream. The barrel of Mathias’ pistol let out wisps of smoke. I looked on in horror and shock at how casually everything had unfolded. Slumped against the wall, Henri sat. Blood covered his face, dripped from the hole that the bullet had made in his forehead. As he slid, blood, brain matter, bits of hair, streaked down the wall. Margot threw up from somewhere behind me. Mathias, as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t just killed a man, flipped the safety switch. Took the magazine out of his pistol. He holstered his pistol at his hip. Sent a text on his flip phone. He picked up whatever it was Henri dropped.

He took one last look at Henri’s lifeless body. “I don’t work in people.” Was all he said before coming to stand in front of Anne and me.